


Devilmas: A Devilish Christmas

by KorrohShipper



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (Tiny) Angst, Christmas fic, Douchifer bromance, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Just a dash of angst, Like, Lucifer is over the top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper
Summary: "I think my Father took a page out of Jim Carrey's book and became the Dad-damned Grinch who stole Christmas."Or, Deckerstar fluff, Douchifer bromance, and a happy non-celestial holiday to all.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Dan Espinoza, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: LUCIFER_FICS_





	1. "Party's on the 25th, obviously."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, basically a Christmas future fic.
> 
> The whole Michael debacle's finished, God's retired and went on to try and work things out with Goddess, Lucifer's siblings (save for Amenadiel, who's on Earth to raise Charlie) are running Heaven as a collective God, Michael's trapped in Hell. 
> 
> Basically, everything's tied up neatly and happily for our fic and fluff.

Suffice to say, her life really did change the moment she began dating the light-bringer. 

Sure, there were moments, early on in their partnership even before they began dating where he got on her nerves and seemed to push every existent button she had, even the ones she didn't know she had. That version of him had been, in her own words, repulsive on a chemical level. 

But he got better—that, and she got to know the real Lucifer hidden beneath the bravado and swagger of a man who really had a ton of emotional trauma and baggage. 

Linda really did a hell of a job getting him to open up and process those feelings, those pent-up emotions and triggering memories of his difficult past and experiencss. Above all, Linda helped him heal and forgive himself and Chloe couldn't possibly know how or where to begin to thank her for that. 

But even with that, Chloe knows that some things are still sore and sensitive for him. Little reminders that manage to open up the healed scars and after working through so much of them, Chloe just wants her boyfriend to know that he doesn't have to feel like he's going to have to pretend to like something he doesn't for her benefit. 

So, when the weather began to cool to a chilly breeze (which, in LA standards, was just really sweater weather) with the small inkling of holiday cheer just after the rush of Thanksgiving died down, she knew she had to talk to Trixie. 

"Mommy, are we cancelling Christmas?" 

Chloe felt a pang of hurt as a confusion and realization dawned on her daughter's face. It reminded her, with a twang of guilt, of the day she and Dan talked their daughter through their decision to live separately. Quickly, she moved forward towards Trixie and took her daughter's hands into her own. 

"Monkey, no, of course not." She assures. "Christmas isn't cancelled, babe. It's just that we'll have to make a few adjustments." 

"But we're not getting a tree." She glanced at the empty spot near the living area before her eyebrow arched. "And we're not going to see the nativity scene, or caroling." 

"You could still do that with Daddy, babe. And I know it's a bit hard, babe. It's not that we're not celebrating Christmas, it's just that we have to be mindful of the people around us during that time." 

Her daughter pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Is this about Lucifer?" she asks before her face brightens up and morphs to a teasing, mischievous grin. "Is this because you two are dating now?" 

Chloe fights to keep the flush of crimson off of her cheeks and maintain the sloghtest bit of composure in front of her daughter. "A bit, yeah, Trix." She gave a small smile, appeasing her daughter who looked victorious from the confession but the mood between them turned serious. "Monkey, you know that Lucifer is the—" 

Trixie nods and grins at her. "The Devil?" she supplies readily before humming in confirmation. "Don't worry, Mommy. I know that. And I'm okay with that." 

Chloe sighs. Of course her daughter knows. Trixie, evidently, is the best of her and Dan and far smarter than most people give her credit for. 

"Really?" she asks, just to be sure. 

Trixie hums in agreement. "I mean, I have a literal guardian-Devil; a step-satan." 

Despite the not-so sneaky mischievous and pointed hint her daughter gave, Chloe remained unfazed as she gave Trixie's hands a gentle squeeze. "Well, monkey, you know that Lucifer's had a. . . _troubled past_ with his family, right?" 

Trixie sobered up and slumped against the chair. "His Dad threw him out." She says quietly, her voice is soft and small. "His brothers and sisters only watched when he was cast out of Heaven. And after that, they only went to see him to bring him back to Hell." 

They remained quiet for a moment. "All because he asked for free will, right, Mommy?" 

Chloe swallowed. "That's. . .yeah, babe," she swerves and captures her daughter into her arms, ignoring the crick that hitches on her throat. "Listen, Trix," she looks into her daughter eyes with an iron conviction. "I love you, you know that, right, baby?" 

Trixie nods. 

"Know that I will never do that. There is nothing that can make me do that to you." Trixie's arms snake around her waist and she snuggles deeper. 

"But. . ." Trixie trails off, a hint of distant horror clouding her face, "Abuela said that in the Bible, God loves all of his children but it still happened to Lucifer." 

"It did. The truth is, babe, bad things happen and we can't prevent them even though we want to stop it from happening. What we can do," she says instead, "is to help out those who experienced that hurt." 

"Like Lucifer?" 

"Exactly." She sighs. A part of her knows it isn't fair. Ever since she was young, Trixie loved Christmas—her excitement was so palpable that she could bounce off the walls counting down the days until it was the 25th of December. 

Everything that had to do with Christmas was like fuel to a roaring fire. Trixie loved the season—it was also Christmas when Dan first came home with that double fudge chocolate cake that continued to be her daughter's favorite—and she hated to take that away from her, to ask her to tone it down for the time being. 

"The thing is, Trix, some of the traditions we have aren't just traditions to Lucifer. Some of them could, maybe bring up some of his. . .less positive memories of his past." 

Nativity scenes had been their tradition back then before their marriage had fallen apart. While Dan wasn't particularly religious, his family was. Her ex-husband didn't share the best relation with his family but he had fond memories and that included Christmas. She and Dan used to take Trixie all over downtown LA, munching on either toasted chestnuts or fun-shaped gingerbread snacks. They'd go and listen to carolers singing about Christmas, Saint Nicholas delivering presents to kids with his one horse open sleigh, or about Jesus Christ. 

Now, despite marrying into Dan's family, all of whom are devout Catholics, she didn't know much about the Bible, but she knew enough that, with her recent immersion with the Divine, Jesus Christ is really Lucifer' half-brother. 

That and the fact that there's an entire holiday season celebrating his brother's name and birth while he was being blamed for every small sin humanity's done throughout the ages. 

_Stop blaming me_ , she once heard him say in a flash of anger and, more recently she found out, in guilt. He blamed himself, too. 

"Remember, Trix, we're not cancelling Christmas. Never, monkey," she reminds softly with a smile, "it's just that we have to be mindful, yeah?" 

Trixie cups her chin in a thoughtful look before looking up with a bright grin. "Okay!" she says with a cheer. "Christmas isn't just about, you know, _Christmas_ —" Trixie says the word as if that alone is explanation enough, "—but it's about spending time with the people you care about and just being together." 

Then, her daughter adds more softly. "Lucifer never had anyone to celebrate the holidays with, or traditions to do. Our traditions are great and all," she trails off with the brightest smile, "but maybe we can start new ones with Lucifer, Mommy." 

Chloe's voice went small, unable to trust that it won't break. "You mean that, Trix?" 

Her daughter nods. "He's family. And in the end, that's what Christmas is about."

* * *

Dan, thankfully, is no longer suffering from the brain meltdown that usually follows post-Divinity reveal. 

Her ex-husband, who began to see a therapist and had requested to be on desk duty until he passes a psych eval, gave her a look. "Really?" he asks. "Trix's okay with it?" 

"Yeah." She nods thoughtfully at the mention of their daughter. "She's been really understanding." 

Dan sighs but smiles. "Well, as long as she's okay," he looked over her shoulder and Chloe knows, almost immediately, where and who her ex-husband was looking at. 

With his legs crossed, Lucifer was on his usual spot beside her table with a cone of soft-serve in his hand and a packet of his favorite cool ranch puffs dangerously close to spilling on her files. 

By now, the initial fear and shock of Lucifer's Devil, Dan understands that Lucifer has always been the man he knows him to be: a good man, his friend. "It was a lake of sulfur and fire, you know?" he says all of a sudden. 

"What?" 

"According to the Bible. When he fell, after the War of Heaven, his wings had been crippled by the archangel Michael—" they both shudder and felt uneasy at the mention of the name, "—he was cast out of the Kingdom of Heaven and he fell to the deepest bowels of Hell only to plummet to a lake of sulfure and fire." 

Chloe sucked in a breath. She never had the chance to process that. When she first saw his face, her first immediate thought was that he was the Devil, that he was evil-incarnate and the reason why he looked so monstrous was that because he was a monster. 

She never even stopped to wonder why he looked that way, she never stopped to wonder what if the monstrous part of him wasn't in fact Lucifer but instead on the cards that was dealt to him. 

Centuries upon centuries, millenias of pain and hurting and suffering, never truly healing right if his Devil-form is anything to go by. Believing, deep down inside, that he deserved that. That was far more monstrous than any evil. 

"It must have been hard." Dan says softly. "Having to endure all that just for asking for something freely given to his Father's creation and vilified for it only for the same thing to happen to his brother and watch him be praised for it." 

"That's why Trix and I are going to try something different this year." She says but her gaze softened and gave his hand a tug. "But Dan, I'm not trying to cut you out or replace you with Lucifer. I hope you know that. I just want to—" 

Dan waves off both her worries and rambling. "I get it." And for a moment, he lets her see the flash of guilt and pity he felt for Lucifer. "And I'm okay with that. And I think it's just exactly what we all need." 

Chloe felt like digging her heel into the ground. "No, Dan, I—" 

"No. Really." He gestures calmly. "The past few months have been crazy," her husband says with a breathless smile of disbelief, half scoffing as if he's reliving it. The whole ordeal with being manipulated by Michael and then God's sudden entrance that literally threw the world out of balance and the "bigger plans" Michael had unfurled on them had been. . . _hectic_ , to say the least. 

"I didn't know you felt that way." 

He shrugs casually before nudging her arm. "And hey, with all the—" his arms flail widly towards the ceiling, "—er, _divine bullshit_ we've dealt with, I think we deserve a break from anything God-related." 

At that, Chloe breaks out in short but sputtering laughter. "Yeah," she drawls out with a smile, "I said that once, too." 

Dan raised a brow. "And what happened?" 

"Well, the lieutenant slapped me with that murdered nun case." 

Dan gave a dry guffaw. "Hilarious." 

"Yeah, I said that, too." 

When their laughter subsides, Dan's face shifts into a more somber, serious look. "But I meant what I said, Chloe, maybe this could be good. For all of us, I mean." He gives her a knowing look. "You're happier with him." 

She does not hide the smile that reaches her lops as she nods. "I am." 

"And Trixie loves him." Then, his face morphs to something more horrified. "He'd protect her from anything and I sent goons after him, I almost hurt our daughter." 

Chloe's face softened. "Dan, no, you were hurting—" 

"No, but that's the truth." He insists. "And when I shot him, what if you ran in front of him? I was too blinded by my fear that it didn't even occur to me that I could've hurt you, too." 

"But you didn't, Dan." 

He gives her a look. "No, I was lucky. _We_ were lucky." Dan glanced at Lucifer. "I don't ever want to be in that position again, Chlo. That anger and hurt consumes you and I don't ever want that darkness around Trix." 

"I know, Dan, and you're doing great with your sessions with Linda." 

"I just—I want to forgive myself, Chlo." 

Unable to help herself, she wraps her arms around him and took him into an embrace. "Of course." She says. "And we're for you, you know that, right, Dan?" 

When they broke apart, he looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze, but nodded nonetheless. "I know that, it's just—" he trails off, unable to put it into words but the look he gives her snaps into a realization. 

"Everything's just too much." 

"Exactly." He murmurs. "I don't know if I could ever go back to where I once was, you know? When I was trying this positivity schtick, I don't know if I could ever go back?" 

"Decker! New body dropped! Dispatch's got the details." 

Chloe gave his arm a purposeful pat. "Come on, Dan, you know better than that." She says with a smile before stepping away. "Being better doesn't mean going back to better times, sometimes it means growing and accepting, processing what you feel and when it becomes easier, I guess you'll know you're ready." 

" _Damn_ ," he says, chuckling. "You sure you don't want to blow off this new assignment the lieutenant gave you? We could borrow Linda's office. I'll sit down on the couch and you could, I don't know, use Linda's therapist-mojo on me. You can even charge by the hour."

Chloe laughed. "And he's back." 

Dan gave her a smile. "Thanks, Chlo. Be safe." 

"I know. Thanks." She says and her body, from pure reflex, pivots to go to her desk, grab her badge and gun and phone, but she is frozen on her spot. "Hey, Dan?" 

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"What do you say about celebrating the holidays with us? Nothing Christmas-y or anything like that. You know, just us—Trix, Amenadiel, Linda, Lucifer, and Ella? Just a fresh start for all of us." 

At that, Dan gave her a real, growing smile. He nods, hesitantly at first, but he grows more confident each passing second. "I'd like that." 

Chloe grins in return. "Great!" she says. "So, uh, party's on the 25th, _obviously_." 

Dan snorts. "As if Trix will let you have Christmas on any other day." 

"Exactly." She hums in confirmation before cupping her chin thoughtfully. "Okay, what else? Oh, yeah—so the party's around 7 but I'll need the extra hands, mind coming over earlier and man the grill?" 

Dan laughed. "Hang on, did you just invite me over for the help?" 

At that, Chloe chuckled. "Can't say it didn't cross my mind, Dan." When the laughter died down, she gave her ex-husband a grateful smile. "I'm really glad you're getting better." 

He nods at her, grateful and supportive. "Yeah. Me, too." 

"See you then?" 

"I'll be there."


	2. "The Dad-damned Grinch who stole Christmas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long overdue update. Enjoy!

If there's one word that Lucifer would use to describe the detective, it's that she's a mother. 

He told her once that even though the urchin did nothing to contribute to the rent and continuously added to the ever growing list of expense Chloe had with her uncreaingly depressing median wage, she always put her first. 

Ever since their first meeting, with Delilah's murder to her kidnapping due to Malcolm's hands, Lucifer knew that the urchin's safety and wellbeing will forever be Chloe's priority and he feels a relief take over him on that one. 

Or with Daniel. Despite being an overall, record-breaking douche, he won't deny that he loves her. Detective Douche, for all his faults, is not an uncaring or distant or cruel father. He's human, imperfect—he might have missed a weekened or Taco Tuesday or two, but not even a blind man would miss how Daniel's eyes light up whenever the urchin runs up to him. 

It's good that Beatrice would never come to experience what he had gone through with his parents. What with a father who ordered his exile and forced the kingship of Hell unto his still burning and aching shoulders with no other choice than to win the respect of the demons through brute force to survive, or perhaps a mother who only stood by dear old Dad's side as she watched him plummet to that Dad-damned lake of fire and sulphur and didn't flinch no matter how many times he had called for her, for mercy. 

It's good, he always thinks to himself when she throws herself and clings to his leg, wrapping her sticky, short, urchin-fingers around his pants as if it's not a designer Burberry, that she'll never experience what he went through. It's absolutely backwards how older people react to the younger generation not having to go through the trials and tribulations and suffering the generation before them went through. He thinks that whenever he finds himself leaning towards her embrace and as he comes to expect and cherish it, no matter how many times he feigns revulsion. 

And he knows for a fact that Chloe will have sooner worked her bones sore before letting disappointment meet her daughter—he's seen their pathetic light display in an effort to prepare for a Christmas house pageant which was working towards a charity as per the urchin's urging to help. 

He knows they go watch the regional glee caroling competition in the community center or perhaps walk in on the exhibitions featuring the nativity. 

He knows that, what with Detective Douche's more religious upbrining, Christmas holds a special place in their hearts, in the urchin's especially. 

So, Lucifer is confused, as he slurps the melted ice cream off the cone before popping it into his mouth for a satisfying crunch, on why in Dad's name is Chloe avoiding Christmas. 

He's known her since 2016. He's watched how, whenever November ends and a new day ushers in December, that she's always walking with a pep or a glow that could only be described as the holiday cheer. He doesn't have to ask around to know that the holiday season's important to them, that they spend a literal month preparing their apartment with garlands or an imperfect runt of a fir tree that the urchin no doubt has chosen because it's perfect. 

Chloe would have been animatedly chatting away about the child's Christmas-fueled adventures or maybe spilling in their plans for the season and giving a half-hearted question about his plans only to scrunch her nose up when she learns about his very festive orgies—it's either she's repulsed by his sexcapades or her standing invitation to come and join him back then, early on in their partnership. 

Without fail, like clockwork, before the fifteenth of the month, the Decker household will have been decked with cheap, fake garlands that swat around annoyingly at you like fake, plastic mosquitos if you get to close but he couldn't help but smile. 

They put a star on top of the tree, just leaning to the side as if it's mere moment's away from collapsing to the ground. Lucifer may feign indifference to it, but he likes it whenever the urchin comes up to him, her eyes and smile filled with a rush of holidays that beams through him. Intoxicating, really. 

She would ask him, without fail, to lift her up and help her put the star. He claims distate, but really, he wonders deep down on why the detective and the urchin insist on a star when they alone could bright up the entire apartment complex. If there was any doubt or wonder if she and thr urchin are miracles, Lucifer doesn't have them now. 

Despite his aversion to Christmas, he's come to recognize it differently. 

In the beginning, just a few short millenias after his fall, he was angry— _angry_ that come every winter solstice, the humans would come and rejoice, celebrating the triumph of his weaselly twin brother, Michael; or perhaps sing songs of how benevolent his Father is by setting forth his beloved son, Manny, to purge humanity of their sins. 

He hated that. 

He hated how, come every December, it's always the season to remind everyone of how the Devil is ultimate source of evil, the very personification of damnation. As if damnation ever looked good as he would in a designer limited fall Armani collection. 

Every excursion he's had in Earth, he made it a point to return before the dawn of the last month. If only to escape the songs of praise of what a kind and loving father God was. 

When he realized he liked Earth—vices, sins, people and all—he stated. Holidays came around, inevitably, but he made sure to come up with ways to cope with that. 

But then, he met Chloe and the urchin. Slowly, unknowingly to all of them, his tastes begam to change. Drug-fueled orgies are fun and all, but after spending some time with Chloe and Beatrice opened his eyes that maybe his holidays were more than a bit. . . _repetitive_. 

It all felt hollow, and deep down inside, he knows this. Even before he met Chloe or the urchin or the doctor. 

Still, he participated and gave generously. After all, he's the Devil and he had a reputation to maintain, but he slowly understood that maybe there's different ways to cope, that there different ways to forget and maybe to move on, as the good doctor says. 

By the time he understood why he felt like that way, the sexcapades and orgies began to dwindle down as he spent more time with game night, taco Tuesdays, or Disney movie marathons. 

Of course, that particular enlightenment encountered a number of hurdles in the form of his Mum revealing Chloe's true nature to him and baiting him to think that everything they've felt, shared and understood was nothing more than a manipulation; ham-fisted lieutenant who orchestrated his Devil-napping, his ill-time Devil-face reveal, and the fallout that followed. Credit is due, however, their story is consistent and true to form, as Miss Lopez would say, that it was the long road of bummer after another bummer that would eventually lead to Deckerstar. 

So, really, after Cain, Eve and McKinnley and Dromos, his return to Hell, Chloe finding out she's a miracle, the entire Michael debacle, Dad retiring, and the ordeal of having to make sure his dastardly twin brother doesn't end up on the Throne of God, he really was excited. 

While this wasn't the first Christmas he spent with Chloe and Beatrice, it was his first as her partner. Not, _civilian-consultant-partner_ , but _**partner** -partner_. He wanted it to be memorable, something to look back to fondly. The pinnacle of the Deckerstar Christmas experience. A Devilishly-good Christmas; a Devilmas.

They would want to spend it in their apartment, considering that Lux still isn't PG-urchin and the detective would surely oppose to having a party in his penthouse during the busiest night of the year knowing that his elevator still does not have a lock installed and will certainly provide, in an itemized list, of the number of intruders who took advantage of his lock-less elevator. 

Lucifer then popped out his phone and tapped on the screen— _install lock for detective and urchin_ —before putting the device away. 

He digress. Lucifer has plans for Christmas. It may or may not include having to reach out to the people who decorates the tree in NYC's Rockefeller Center—alright, it _does_ include that, but after everything they've been through courtesy of his celestial family, nothing but the best will suffice for his first non-divinity boggled Christmas with the detective and the urchin. 

Really, it must be perfect. 

So, Lucifer could only look on in confusion as he stepped inside the detective's apartment only to find Detective Douch—er, Daniel grilling away at the stove, glancing at him with a meak wave before turning his attention back at the somewhat charred sausages if his nose was to go by anything. 

But Daniel's presence wasn't the only thing out of place. It wasn't just out of place, everything wasn't in place to begin with! 

From the fake garlands to to the tree, it was all gone. It's as if Christmas never existed in the first place. 

"Lucifer!" 

The urchin appeared from her room and came barreling towards him. He didn't have time to side-step and dodge as his mind still processed the inexplicably bland and un-festive apartment. "Urchin, what happened?" 

But the urchin was seemingly unaware of his confusion. "Happy Holidays!" 

His eyebrow rose. "Child, is there something wrong?" the urchin gave him a quizzical lool and shrugged dismissively. He looked up to the ceiling. "Is my Father behind this? Did he move the entire month away to manipulate me?" 

Entirely unsure whether his father would do something like it, he looked at his phone. December 25. Lucifer frowns just as the detective appears. Was it because he refused to become the new God, is that it? 

Some kind of petty revenge to send his way? 

She crosses the room and plants a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Hey, babe," but she picked up on his frown. "Something wrong?" 

"Yes." He says carefully as to not upset the detective and the urchin, and even Daniel. Actually, scratch that—especially Daniel because now he's certain that he's cursing under his breath, repeatedly muttering oh shit, oh shit, not the steak. 

Yes. No need to worry Daniel needlessly. Dad knows he could do with less worrying. He'll solve this problem soon enough. He'll just pop up, tell his siblings to undo whatever celestial mojo Dad's waved his fingers on and everything will be right as rain. 

Chloe looks up in worry. "Hey, what is it?" 

Lucifer takes the detective aside, careful not to let anyone overhear. 

"Detective, I'll need you to do me a favor and not react badly to the news I'm about to share with you." 

Concerned, she leans forward. "Is it bad?" 

He frowns. He doesn't know how Dad managed it, but certainly he'll get to the bottom of this. Maybe the damage isn't so deep. "Perhaps, I don't know. The situation's just come to my attention, you see." 

"Alright, what's the situation?" 

"I think my Father took a page out of Jim Carrey's book and became the Dad-damned Grinch who stole Christmas."


	3. "Are We Still On for Dinner?"

"God stole Christmas?" 

With everything she's lived through, at this point, there should have been no more surprises. The revelation that divinity—Heaven, Hell, God and the Devil and all the freakin' angels—is real and that she's living proof of divine intervention really is a hard feat to top. 

A Devil for a boyfriend, a nephilim for an honorary nephew, the literal firstborn angel of God on her speed dial, having witnessed a Heavenly coup to overthrow God only to reveal that he was retiring all along. Oh, and the cherry on top, she's a miracle, the very by-product of divine intervention. 

At this point in life, Chloe's seen it all. 

Or at least, she thought she did. 

When her boyfriend tugged her by the arm and pulled her aside, away from Dan and Trixie, she won't lie that she was having trouble trying to process Lucifer's words. It was hard trying to understand what he meant. A part of her wondered if it was like a puzzle or a code for something because surely, after everything that's happened, God would have better things to do for his retirement than to steal an entire holiday away. 

But the more she looked for answers from Lucifer, the more she was stumped. "Wait, really? But how? I mean, Christmas, an entire holiday? How is that. . .how does one even do that?" 

The Devil nods gravely. "My thoughts exactly, detective." He looked pensive, and despite how comical the situation is, he didn't even bother to make a joke about it. It must have been serious. "You see, detective, before Dad allowed the rest of the Heavenly Host to take turns playing God, he approached me and told me that of all my feathery siblings, he wanted me to succeed him." 

"You." She repeats dryly. Very dryly. 

"Precisely, detective. I suppose it does makes sense considering out of all of us angels—and I mean all of us—I'm the only one with experience running a kingdom. Well, a kingdom of the damned, but a realm nonetheless. I suppose this is his way of manipulating me." 

Her mind, blessfully still intact and not sputtering as it imploded in on itself, managed to supply: "You think this is your father's doing?" 

Lucifer nods readily before shooting an annoyed scowl at the ceiling, muttering an obscenity about scheming fathers. 

"And he's doing this to manipulate you." She finishes, drawing out each word skeptically. 

"I mean, he's done it before!" 

Her eyebrows rose. "You mean he stole an entire holiday before?" 

Lucifer, for his part, looked stumped. "Well, not that. Dad, for his part, is widely original and creative—" a small smile reached his lips and gestured to himself, "—I mean, clearly, perfection wouldn't be achieved without creativity, yes?" 

She rolls her eyes. "Aren't you humble?" 

"Oh, I try," he says in a low octave, his voice purring but before his eyes could darken entirely in a way that ends up on in bed or any surface that he deems appropriate, Lucifer snaps bsck in attention. "But no, actually. What I mean detective, is that my father's been manipulating me since the beginning of time. Though I have to admit, stealing an entire holiday takes the metaphorical cake." 

Chloe steals a glance towards Trixie and Dan, both of home were manning the grill and she could hear their laughter. "Then, maybe we should tell Dan—" 

She twists her body, turning to go back to call for Dan but Lucifer side-steps and intercepts her faster than she could expect. "I think this is something we need to handle for ourselves, detective." 

Unable to help herself, she stares blankly at Lucifer. "But why?" 

"Well," he skitters around with his feet, throwing a glance at the window. His mouth moved open and shut, kind of like a fish out of water. He tries to make a point, but the words die before he could make a sound. He looks helpless and speechless that it almost looked adorable if it weren't for the fact that God stole Christmas. 

"Well?" 

Glaring once more at the ceiling, his lips were pursed into a thin line. "Because, Chloe—and if you dare breathe a word to it to the douche and urchin, I swear—they love Christmas and considering it may be Dad's fault, or Michael, I'm still not sure. Jury's out on who is responsible for this madness. But regardless, there may be someone who's out for me and stole Christmas as a result." He breathes out, giving a pained look at their companions. "But regardless, Daniel and the urchin have been through a number of celestial hiccup courtesy of yours truly. I don't want to add the theft of their favourite holiday to the mix." 

Chloe was stumped. That was actually profoundly kind. It was usually the kind of things Lucifer would say and she'll be floored at how thoughful and just kind he is, so different from what people would have her believe. 

"Okay." 

"Not a word, detective." He reminds. "My reputation may never recover." 

"I mean, yeah—instead of throwing an orgies and sexcapades, you're here trying to solve the mystery of a stolen holiday." She teased but then, her words washed over her. "Stolen holiday, never thought that I'd say those two words, but welcome to my life, I guess." 

"Precisely," he says, not catching on to her teasing. "Regardless, with LAPD's finest on the case, well, we'll have Christmas returned to its rightful place before long. Best not needlessly worry Daniel and the spawn." 

Lucifer beams at her, despite the situation and steals a kiss. For a moment, butterflies fill her stomach and her toes curl up inside her flats. She was caught up in the kiss that she almost forgot the question that nagged at the back of her mind: 

"Hey, Lucifer?" 

"Yes, detective?" 

"How do you know for sure that Christmas is stolen?" 

Lucifer gives her a look of disbelief and waves around the apartment. "The fact that you have to ask, detective, is proof enough."

* * *

Explaining that something came up, Dan and Trixie were more than happy to hold down the fort and prepare the meals for their now-stolen Christmas gathering. 

With Lucifer already waiting for her, the Corvette already brought around, the engine roaring to life, she quickly got in and they sped through the road. 

"Alright, even though I'm in homicide, I did my fair share of robbery when I was still a beat cop. We can treat this like any other case." She mutters before looking to Lucifer, who paused on a red stoplight. "A list of suspects?" 

"Well, first, it's Dad. My father clearly has the means to do it, not to mention the motive. But I suppose it's hard to talk to him considering I can't go dimension hopping to Mum's universe and crash his retirement-slash-couple's-therapy!" she nods and gestures for him to continue. "Then, of course, there's Michael. While he's incapacitated into ruling Hell for me, well, let's just say that while he's no Uriel, he can make a butterfly flap its wings and have a housewife get chlamydia on the other side of the world just as well." 

"I'm not sure I understand that, but okay, Michael." 

Lucifer drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Oh, maybe Manny. Yes, hates Christmas, that one." 

"Manny?" 

Lucifer grins like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, yes, Manny," he gives her a teasing look, "you know, detective, the birthday boy of the 25th?" 

Her eyes widened. "Jesus?" she choked out. 

Lucifer laughed just as the light turned green. "Oh, yes, _Jesus_ —" he tests out the name, the word sounding foreign, "—you know, this whole _Jesus_ business was all thanks to Paul. Said that Yeshua was too common, that the son of God needed a cool stage name so he came up with Jesus on that biography. But between you and me, Paul was a bit of a fanboy and took more than his fair share of creative liberties." She gave him a pointed look and he relented. "Anyways, friends and family called him Yeshua, or Josh, but his stint as an immortal had him hating the spotlight Paul gave him. Everyone said Jesus this, Jesus that, well, took a page from my book and used his other name. Reinvented himself, if you will."

"Other name." She repeats dryly. Because of course Jesus had a second name. 

"Emmanuel, maybe you've heard of it? When he gallivanted across Europe, he liked that name particularly." 

But then, Chloe remembered why the messiah was brought up in the first place. "Hang on, Jesus hates his birthday?" 

Lucifer laughs. "Oh, hate's too small a word. Manny despises it. Again, Paulie had taken a lot creative liberties and twisted the truth for dramatic purposes—Manny always knew his fate, eveyone did. That's why he hated his name and his birthday because. . ." then, the smile falls off his face. 

Chloe's throat constricted. She laced her fungers woth his free hand and she saw a small, genuine smile, tug on his lips. 

"Well, like me, I suppose, he had a prophecy breathing down on his neck. While I was blissful in ignorance, he wasn't detective. Manny hated the fact that he knew he was going to die, he hated growing old because, at the end of the day, son of God or not, he was still a lamb brought up to be slaughtered. He's human, he wanted to live but he couldn't." 

"Hey," she says softly, understanding that slowly, somehow, along his story, it became less and less about his half-brother, and more about him. "It's okay now. You have your life now, with us. You got that life." 

He gave a tight smile. "Well, we both did, at least." He cleared his throat with a cough. "Last I heard, some ten years ago, Manny tried his hand at as a pop band singer's life. He made quite the wave in Korea before he decided to go stateside." 

At that, she barely controls the choked laughter that ends up as a snort. "Jesus was a K-Pop singer?" 

"A gift of Dad, I suppose. His ability to mimic any race. Son of Man, indeed." He stopped the car and looked at her, a teasing look on his face. "And, again, detective, it's Manny, actually."

* * *

With three bright neon pink curlers still stuck in her hair, her dress only half-zipped up, a toddler screaming bloody murder as his father tried to slip his shoe on and at the same time feed him his dinner, to say that Linda wasn't ready for visitors was an understatement. 

But a knock sounded on her door nonetheless. 

"Amenadiel, could you get that?" 

The sound of a bowl of Gerber toddler applesauce and oatmeal falling to the ground and smashing to about a thousand pieces answered for her. A long and weary sigh came after. "Our son decided to wear his meal." A silence followed as mushy footsteps filled the room and she saw just how devastating it was. 

Charlie, a happy and babling baby, was more baby food than child and Amenadiel looked like he was used for target practice. 

"I think he needs another bath." He looks down and frowns. "I suppose I should run one for me as well." 

Linda gave a tired but fond smile. "Make sure to reach that spot behind his ear," her son clapped jovially. At least someone found the situation funny. 

"I'll go get it." 

Linda crossed the room and reached the door only to find—"Chloe, Lucifer, what a surprise!" 

And it was, considering she was getting ready for the party that was going to be held at Chloe's apartment. 

"Hello, doctor, is my brother around?" but before she could even answer, Lucifer invited himself in and went on to call out for his brother. 

Chloe gave her a sheepish smile but she waved it off. Her friend took small steps inside and peered over her shoulder and grimaced at the sight of the kitchen. "What happened?" 

Linda didn't have to turn around to picture her kitchen. "My son decided that the kitchen would look better if he redecorated it with applesauce and oatmeal." 

Chloe kept a straight face, yes, but Linda knew enough from her years of psychology to know that she was fighting off a smile. "He should consider a career in interior design, then." Then, she couldn't hold it in and grinned wildly. "I remember when Trixie was like that. Gosh, it feels like it was just yesterday." 

Linda nods thoughtfully. "Exactly. There are moments where you just want to lose it but then you remember this is life, even the little chaotics bits and pieces. And that's for normal, non-celestial kids. What more with Charlie, a literal son of an angel!" she expected to see the same reminiscent look on Chloe's face but she sees her friend marching over to the couch, that same pensive amd restless look she sees on her patient's face. 

On Christmas day, no less. 

Linda sighs. "And we're sitting down." 

"I mean, after everything that we've been through—all of us—is it too much to ask for one holiday where nothing celestial happens?" 

"What happened?" 

"God happened!" her hands gestured wildly. "God stole Christmas!" 

Linda gives Chloe a quizzical look. "Like the Grinch stole Christmas or. . ." she trails off and Chloe is animated in her response. 

"I don't know. But to Lucifer, it makes sense and," the rush in Chloe fades away. "He's just been through so much, you know, and he wants Christmas back for Dan and Trixie and you know how he is. Linda, I just want to have Lucifer have one good Christmas, one where's he's not blaming himself for for ruining it because he didn't." Chloe huffs out a breath of air. "Christmas is supposed to be magical, Linda, and I have _so_ many great memories, both as a child and as a parent, you know? And Trixie and I just want to share that with him. And you know how over the top he could get and, I just don't know." 

"No," she contradicts. "You _do_ know, Chloe. You're scared." She notes. "You're scared that if he fails to, er, find and bring Christmas back, then Christmas is going to be another one of his scars." 

"When I almost died, he saved me," she says softly. "You all did, but at the end of the day all Lucifer could see was that being with me caused that—the good that he did was always tainted by his belief that he ruined things but he didn't." She looks up earnestly. "I don't want him to dwell on a belief that he made a mistake, that he's to blame for something so far out of his reach. He's already got too much on his shoulders and I just. . .I want to be there for him, but I don't know how." 

Linda nods. "Well, we can't shield the people we love from the hurt they experience, the blame they feel or the mistakes they'll make along the way. But what we can do is remind them thay every day is a new beginning, that there's always another chance." Linda gave Chloe a knowing smile. "Take life, for example. You have good days and bad ones. The fact that we have bad ones doesn't mean that we won't have good days again, it means that we just have to believe that one day, we'll get over the darker days." 

Chloe glances at her thoughfully, slowly nodding. "Yeah, right, like I had tons of great Christmases and some were bad, too, but it doesn't mean that they were ruined." 

She smiles. "Exactly. I supppose, in a way Christmas is all about new beginnings and brighter tomorrows." Linda leans in forward and takes Chloe's hand into hers. 

"Thank you, Linda," Chloe says, dabbing a tissue on the corner of her eye. 

"Of course. Anytime, Chloe." 

As if on cue, Lucifer reappears from the bathroom, unscathed by her son's hatred of water and his insistence that everyrthing else be bathed except for him. 

"Detective!" Lucifer looks particularly cheerful. "I've managed to procure our lead." He holds out a piece of paper. 

"An address?" 

Lucifer nods. "Of our birthday boy. Come on, then, I think Manny's long overdue a birthday visit from his brother." 

Lucifer, in his excitement, goes directly to the door. "Thank you, doctor, a genius as always. You've been wonderful help!" he says as if he's said more than 10 words to her. 

"Listen, we have to go off we want to solve this and make things right before dinner." Chloe pulled her in for an embrace. "But thank you, Linda. Really." 

Linda smiles at her friend, albeit confused. "Of course, Chloe, but now that Christmas is officially cancelled or God-stolen—" she's out of the door and inside the Corvette before she could even continue her question. 

"—are we still on for dinner?" but they're already gone and she's just standing outside, exposed to the entire neighborhood with curlers in her hair and an unzipped dress with half-done make-up talking to herself. She pursed her lips.

Despite the Corvette already having disappeared into the the curve of the road, knowing that they wouldn't hear her, she calls out, "You two deserve one another!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to end with Chapter 3 but I couldn't help but add Linda into the mix. 
> 
> So now, there are four chapters. Whee!


End file.
